Sweet Dreams, My Love
by itwasheridea
Summary: The night of their death, despite everything, there was still a child they needed to care for. missing scene between chapters 20 and 21 of Immortality. rated T to be super safe. please read and review!


**This is a companion (not exactly a sequel) to our story Immortality. DO NOT read if you have not read Immortality. This will ruin it completely. This was written by Madi without any editing from Megan so apologies for any bad grammar/spelling errors. It is angsty but well written - at least I think so. For clarification, it takes place just hours after the events of Finality. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything pertaining to Twilight. Aurora Cullen is ours.**

_**Sweet Dreams, My Love**_

She took a hesitant step into the dining room, treading on the shards of broken glass, the shattered porcelain china. They crunched beneath her slight weight but she paid them no heed. She stooped down and reached out her long, pale arm; she snared the photograph in trembling, slender fingers and raised her other hand to trace the warm, content faces. A dry sob escaped her lips. She sucked in a slow, unnecessary breath to steady a heart that wasn't beating. She could taste their blood on the air, mingled with the heady fragrance of the still smoldering ashes. A low snarl replaced the sob; anger glinted in her eyes.

Heavier steps smashed the glass that decorated the floor. She turned to the owner of the heart, thudding louder than any she'd heard in a long time. Jacob's face was devastated, but she imagined it could be no worse than the expression on her own face. She turned her whole body to face him.

His eyes were glued to the faces in the picture, to the glowing smiles of the happy family. She held it out for him to see but he shook his head, jerking it away so that he couldn't see anymore. Instead he lifted his eyes to stare at her. "I'm sorry – Alice, I – I should've done something, should've gotten help sooner – "

She shook her head once, face softening but not smiling. Her voice, usually a bell on the air, was strained in barely-controlled emotion. "Don't blame yourself. I should have seen them coming."

He gave no reply. "I wish I had done something, though."

"You gave us more than we could have ever hoped for," she whispered. "A chance to say goodbye."

His face was furious in the space of one of his heartbeats. He growled, "You call that a _goodbye_?"

She was indifferent to his anger. "Some part of us knew they weren't going to make it. That we were able to speak to them before, that we were with them is more than – it'll get us through. Somehow. Thank you."

He ground his teeth together, fighting two instinctual reactions. One, the reaction of the wolf, to phase and run as fast as his four legs would carry him until he found the ones responsible, until his teeth ripped through the stone flesh. Two, the reaction of the friend, to crumble to pieces in the middle of the shattered room and cry until every tear he had was gone. She shut her eyes and turned from him. She had neither option.

She heard the strike of the match and knew that Emmett was still outside, throwing flame after flame into the smoldering ash. It would accomplish nothing but they each had their own way of coping. Not that there was any possible way to deal with something like this. She watched Rosalie on the couch, bent over her knees with her blonde tendrils framing her face. She staggered under the invisible weight of the responsibility she'd been entrusted with, raising her sister's child. Jasper stood by the window, his face blank. She whispered over the floor as she walked to him; she had no strength left to dance. He didn't look at her. The pale glow that illuminated the front lawn brought to an end the longest night she'd ever lived through, bringing with it the longest day she'd had to look forward to.

"Aurora is still asleep. Carlisle and Esme went to Charlie's," she whispered. There was no sense to her speaking, he knew where they had gone just as well as anyone. "What do you think he'll say?"

She received no answer. She hadn't expected one. She breathed in another shuddering breath. Her composure was tottering on the edge of a cliff, precarious and deadly. If she swayed just enough in the wrong direction, the whole cliff she stood on would go tumbling down. She glanced at him again. The silence was not helping her maintain balance. She was close, too close, to snapping under the weight of it. She hadn't been designed to handle this: the throbbing ache in her chest, the instinctive urge to gasp for breath, the stinging in her eyes of burning tears that would never come. She shut her eyes and willed the tremors that ran up her spine to still.

"What are you feeling?" His voice was flat, emotionless.

She blinked up at him, confused. She didn't think their family had _ever_ had feelings as similar to each others' as they did now. Her eyes asked the question; she didn't trust her voice. He sighed. "I don't know what to feel right now. So I don't feel anything."

She understood, "Everything, I guess. I try not to get too close to just one for too long. It gets to be too overwhelming."

She looked down, eyebrows coming together. How did she feel? She pulled her eyes inward and tried to peer at the internal disaster she'd made of herself. There was anger, obviously, linked with a steel will that demanded revenge. She gasped out a little under the weight of the grief, the tidal wave of misery that curled her toes and made her jaw tighten to keep from falling to her knees with a tearless sob. The image on the picture, still held firm in her tiny hand, flashed in her mind and her heart clenched. She couldn't breathe, and this time she needed to. She needed something to keep her rooted to the world, to keep her from drowning in the sudden feeling of being completely detached from what she had known to be her life, her existence. There it was, spelled out in emerald eyes and waves of mahogany. Two smiling faces, now stilled and peaceful. The link in their family, the bond and warmth that kept them all together, gone. She felt like she was floating, alone, in space. She lost sight of the ever-brightening glow of the sun, hidden behind a thick wall of clouds. Loneliness crept up from her toes, freezing her immortal bones as it crawled up her legs, encircled her waist, suffocated her chest, and blinded her eyes. The tiny strings of thread that had held her in place were gone; she was gone; they were gone. Her balance was lost and she, alone, tumbled from the cliff.

His arms were around her and breath whooshed into her lungs. She choked on the relief, finding it alleviated nothing. He pulled her from the world she'd been in, drew her back as his hands traced over every part of her back, rubbing circles on her shoulders, tangling in her short, dark hair. His chin rested atop hers and she pulled back to look up at him. He was feeling now; his eyes were wild with emotion, uncontrolled and powerful. His heart was a mirror to hers. It always had been and it always would be. It made sense that he was just as isolated in his linkless world as she was in hers. They would be each other's link. And somehow they would find a way to reach out and grab on until their family was linked together again, gripping their hands together as they tried to stay afloat in the ocean they were in. Somehow they would find a way.

And the "way" made itself known. The tiny little voice was frightened and small, "Auntie Alus, Uncle Jaspy?"

She turned around to face the child. He kept his hands about her waist because he knew that she needed him to. "Yes, sweetheart?"

Her bronzed coffee curls were matted with sleep. Her right cheek was flushed from laying on her side and her bare feet shivered from kicking off her socks as she slept. Her emerald eyes were wide and terrified as they took in the quiet, the grief that permeated the air, the shattered glass shot in all directions across the room. Her hands trembled as she gripped her teddy bear closer to herself. "Where Mommy and Daddy? I have bad dream."

In the corner of her eye, she saw Rosalie whip her head from side to side, eyes squeezed shut. Her face was pure agony. She buried her head in her hands, resting her forehead on her knees. Her body heaved as sobs racked her body. She muffled the sound of her cries as much as she could for the sake of her new charge. The matchbox hit the ground and Alice heard him run away, heard the pounding of his steel fists into the trees. Jasper turned back to the window, face blank but eyes ablaze with fury. Somewhere, almost a mile away, a mourning howl tore through the air, joined by others of its kind.

She stepped forward, breathing to steady herself. Steady, steady, steady. She had to stop the trembling. She was the loving aunt by the time her measured steps reached her niece, the carefully constructed façade she'd developed shielding the pain on her face. She lifted the child into her arms with ease, holding her against her form with one hand, guiding the coppery head to her shoulder with the other. She took the stairs one at a time, in no hurry at all to approach the room.

The head lifted from her shoulder when she nudged the door open with a tap of her foot. "Auntie Alus?"

"Hmm?" She took a step into the room.

"Stay wif me. Pweese," she murmured. Her voice was already exhausted. It wouldn't be long before she lost the battle against returning to the world of dreams. "Even when I'm sweeping."

She tried to hide her yawn behind the ears of the bear. She couldn't have denied the little girl anything. "Of course I will, Aurora, of course."

She placed her on the twin bed that had replaced the crib against the wall. Half the nights someone was laying with her anyway, so it had been decided that an actual bed was more realistic than a crib. She hadn't fallen once. The toddler burrowed under the covers and pulled the bear and its companion, the stuffed koala bear Esme had found, into her arms. Alice climbed in next to her, stretching out on top of the navy-sky swirls of the thick blanket she was covered with. Aurora scooted away from the center to press herself as close to Alice as she could. Her voice was a pathetic mumble, "Sing song…"

She ignored the ache in her chest, the tightening in her throat and the sting of the tears' absence in her eyes. She ignored herself and focused instead on the little girl next to her. She draped her arm around the child and hummed the lullaby that had been composed. She felt the relaxation of sleep take her niece almost instantly and she closed her eyes, continuing long after she was alone in the room. The air around the door shifted and she continued on, not opening her eyes to look at Rosalie's composed face as she climbed with grace onto the other side, pressing her back to the wall so they would all fit. She gazed through her lashes as Emmett crouched at the foot of the bed, watching them. Jasper knelt behind her, peering over the downward curve just above her hips. His hand picked up where they'd been interrupted before, soothing her with circles along her back. Carlisle and Esme drifted over, arms wrapped around each other for support. She let her eyes drift closed again. The humming never stopped.

She was their link. She was what would keep them together in the difficult days ahead. Her little light shone out, even in sleep, to tie around their hearts and draw them back together again. She was perfect. A little bit of her, far too much of him. Her mind drifted to the chubby little fingers at the piano, index finger poking out the notes to Mary Had a Little Lamb, with the guidance of Rose's pale fingers wrapped around. She was just as much a part of them as the memories they held in their minds, and she was far less painful. She was peaceful, she was calm. She was theirs. A small smile, so tiny it was almost invisible, tugged at her lips. She raised her arm from where it was curled around the tiny waist. She brushed strands of hair from the sleeping eyes. The humming faltered just long enough for her to sigh and speak, before it picked back up again.

"Have sweet dreams, little one," she breathed. Her eyes swept over the faces of her newly rejoined family. "For all of us."

Edward and Bella's immortality cuddled just a little bit closer, the faint traces of a smile on her face as she dreamed happy dreams.

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**This was meant to be centered on Aurora, but it turned out completely different. I chose Alice because I relate to her better than the others (-Madi). I hope you liked it, even though it was one of the most depressing things I've ever written. Keep watching for anything else we put out. **

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